


flirting with death

by wordsofink



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Ambiguous Happy Ending, Cute, Fluff, Friendship, Ghost!Nico, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Mortal AU, Original Character - Freeform, Past major character deaths, Prince!Will, Royalty AU, Some angst, di Angelo family ghosts, ghost au, some blood mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsofink/pseuds/wordsofink
Summary: Will's soon to be a king. Nico's a ghost who's had to learn from past mistakes.*characters are not mine unless otherwise stated*





	flirting with death

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if I need to tag anything else

It was more folklore than anything now, a cautionary tale with so many morals it served every purpose. The tale of a king with an iron fist and dark eyes was told to naughty children before bed, told around dimming candlelight. The king had a family, and they fell with him, the only wrongdoing that they didn’t know any better. This was the story of a tyrant, of the kingdom oppressed. It was passed down from generation to generation. No one knew where the story had originated, if it even had an origin or if it was gifted by the gods themselves. It was one of those stories that were told so many times that it had fallen out of history and into myth.

But it ended the same every time: The king was shot. The queen was poisoned. Their three children were beaten to death. The servants fled the castle, leaving only the bloodstained castle to serve as a haunting reminder.

It took fifteen years before someone dared step foot into those hallowed halls. The townspeople held their breaths as they waited for news of the bodies, of the murders, of ghosts and restless spirits. But the stories never came. And, slowly, the myth was traded for more uplifting, more revitalizing stories. The legend of the tyrant king and his family fell into past memory, neither myth nor history anymore.  
-  
The talk of the town was of Prince Will’s coronation. It was of the festivities, of what everyone was wearing, of who the prince would take to be his beloved. This was the talk that Austin and Kayla could take part in, in their free hours of roaming through gardens or between lessons. They, too, wondered what kinds of foods would be served, what they would be allowed to wear, what their jobs were to be. After all, this was the crowning of their brother.

The talk of the castle was of duties and responsibilities. It was filled with hours of memorizing rules and policies, of reasoning out hypothetical scenarios. Austin quizzed Will on the geography of the kingdom. Apollo quizzed Will on every regulation known to the kingdom. He accompanied Will on his visits to the town, letting him work out disputes, letting him get a taste of the less publicized part of royalty. After all, this was the crowning of a king.

Will didn’t begrudge his brother for choosing a life of diplomacy rather than a life of bearing crown and scepter. Austin was too restless to stay in one kingdom for the rest of his life, to let his life be governed by written policy rather than by his heart. Austin acted as the official ambassador, diplomat of the kingdom. He didn’t have to make rules or cite regulation. His job was to meet people, to shake their hands, to settle disputes from afar.

So, at the ripe old age of eighteen, Will was going to become the crowned king, stepping up as his father stepped down. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be king (he thought he did), but it was a lot of responsibility and pressure. And it wasn’t like Will could just hand the crown to his sister. The kingdom needed a king, and Kayla was too young.

Will sighs as he finishes up another long lesson. Today’s study was on foreign diplomacy. Will had had to memorize every existing kingdom, their government, their leaders. He’d had to work through hypothetical situations of disputes, of war, of forging allies. He reviewed the trade logs, the imports and exports, the economic status of every trading partner.

He stands up to stretch his legs, setting his pen down on the desk. He’d been staring at the books so long that the letters had started to switch places, had started to blur. Will cracks his knuckles, walking over to the window. It looked out over one of the many courtyards. This one held an intricately carved marble fountain. He smiles when he sees Kayla pressing flowers in the surrounding gardens. She was only ten, but she showed amazing skill at handling flowers. Will thought she’d be a great botanist.

He checks the time, startled to find that it was almost four in the afternoon. He’d been working since noon to try and finish his studies. It felt like they were getting longer and longer each day. He supposed that there was always more to learn, more to remember. Will sits back down at his desk, reaching to pick up his pen. Except, it’s not where he left it. He looks around, finding it on the floor. He wonders if he’s tired enough to not even remember where he left his pen. Sighing again, Will scans through the next few pages. He could take a break, finish this tonight after he was refreshed.

Will heads towards the kitchens, hoping that they’d let him sneak a snack before dinner. He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds Rachel in charge of dinner that night. Rachel was the oldest of the staff that worked in the castle. As children, Austin and Will used to sit by the fire and listen to her tell stories while she cooked their dinner. She’d come from a distant land where they had more myths and legends than Will had ever heard, and Rachel always indulged them in a story or two if they cut up some vegetables or stirred the broth a few times.

“Looking for a snack, Will?” Rachel asks. Will smiles, nodding. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he was hungry. Rachel smiles at him, offering him some bread and jam. Will takes it, shoving at least half of it into his mouth at once. Rachel tsks, offering him another slice. Will eats this slice slower, taking time to enjoy the fresh berry jam.

“Thanks, Rachel. What’s for dinner?”

“Nothing if you keep eating like that,” Rachel says. She swats at Will fondly, shaking her head. “Growing boys eat too much food,” she mumbles. “Growing girls, too,” she adds.

“Well, I smell some wonderful vegetable soup,” Will says. He reaches out to lift the lid, but Rachel swats at him again.

“No snooping around my kitchen. I know you’re the prince, but I’m the one who prepares the food.”

Will smiles at her, kissing her cheek. “Yeah, yeah. I know. No worries.” He holds his hands up as he takes a seat next to the fire. It was still a bit chilly outside, and the fire felt nice.

“Kayla’s told me quite a lot about this coronation of yours,” Rachel says. “I hear there is to be fireworks.”

Will nods. The fireworks had been Kayla’s idea. She’d begged their fathers to be allowed to help plan the festivities.

“It’s going to be quite the celebration,” Will says. He’s both flattered and embarrassed by the attention and detail that’s being put into the coronation. Will could be as charming as Austin, but social gatherings made him get tongue-tied and awkward.

“And I hear you’re supposed to be working on finding a partner?” Will can hear the amusement in Rachel’s voice. Will sighs. It wasn’t talked about as much as his studies, but Will felt that it was just as important. He could rule alone, but he wasn’t sure he wanted that kind of pressure on his shoulders.

“No such luck on that front,” Will says. “I feel like I might have to travel with Austin to find someone.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Rachel may be part of the kitchen staff, but she was almost like a grandmother to Will. She’d been a part of the castle before Will or Austin were even there, and she was one of Will’s favorite people to talk to.

“You’ll find someone, Will.” She smiles at him. “Matters of the heart are sometimes a little slower, more subtle, than matters of the mind. You’ve got time.”

Will nods, straightening his posture. “I just feel like I have to make every decision right now. That it’s all got to happen before I’m crowned.”

Rachel stops cutting up vegetables, moving to sit beside Will. She squeezes his hand. “This coronation isn’t the end of your life, Will. In a way, it’s just the beginning. You don’t have to lose or change anything. Just your title.” Will leans in, hugging her.

“I should be getting back to my studies,” he says after a few moments. Rachel nods, handing him another slice of bread.

“You’ll be a fine king, Will. Just follow your heart and let the people guide you.”  
-  
Will thinks that his exhaustion is getting to him. He keeps misplacing things, forgetting where he’s going. He leaves his clothes drawers open on accident, forgets to hang up his towel after bathing. It’s weird. These things should all be second-nature to him. They were daily-routine tasks that even a small child would be able to do. Yet, Will seemed to be incapable of completing them.

He wanted to ask Austin or Kayla if the same thing was happening to them, but he was slightly embarrassed about it. The crown prince shouldn’t be forgetting where he placed his fork during meals or that he should hang up his towel to dry. He shouldn’t be bogged down completely elementary tasks when he had more demanding tasks before him.

He’s heading to complete more of his studies when Austin calls to him. “Oh, Will!”

Will turns to look at his brother. Austin had returned from a diplomatic journey three days ago, and Will felt slightly guilty that he wasn’t able to spend too much time catching up and hearing about the trip. That had always been his favorite part of Austin being away: hearing about the journey. Hearing from his brother almost made it seem like Will had been there with him. Part of him wanted nothing more than to travel around the world, learn first-hand about all of the things he’d studied.

“Are you sleeping okay?” Austin asks. It’s such a strange question to Will. He’d never had any trouble sleeping, and he definitely didn’t have any problems now. In fact, the moment he had the sheets pulled over him, he was out.

“Yes, I am. Are you?” Austin nods, glancing out the window. It’s a nice day outside, though Will wouldn’t really know that. He’s been cooped up inside all morning.

“I’ve been sleeping fine.” He pauses, gesturing that Will come closer. “It seems that Kayla’s been having nightmares or something,” he says.

Will frowns. Kayla hadn’t said anything about it to him, and she seemed perfectly fine during the day. “What do you mean?”

Austin shifts. “She says that she’s been seeing a little girl. Like another princess, she says.” He frowns. “But she swears that the girl isn’t in her dreams. That she’s actually seeing the girl.”

Will frowns, too. “I don’t understand. She’s hallucinating?”

Austin shakes his head. “I don’t know. She said she’s seen the girl twice now. She hasn’t said anything else.”

“Has she told anyone else?” Will asks.  
“I’m not sure. I doubt either of our dads know. You know how superstitious they are.” Will nods.

“Maybe she’d have told Rachel?” Austin nods. Rachel was the keeper of family secrets. It was a known fact that whatever you told her was private business unless otherwise stated. “I don’t know. She hasn’t seemed sick at all.”

Austin shakes his head again. “I don’t know, Will. I was hoping that maybe you’d have come across something like this in your studies.”

Will shrugs. “Only medical journals that tell of hallucinations or other things of the sort. And then there are those stories of ghosts or spirits.”

“Maybe you could look into it. I’ll see if I can get more information. Either way, it does seem very foreboding, yes?” Will nods. He didn’t like either idea of Kayla being sick or ghosts visiting her. Neither were good signs, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. There were only a few cures for either of them, and while they had the financial means, it didn’t mean that the cures would work.

“Just don’t tell Dad or Father, okay? Not yet,” Austin says.  
Will hesitates before nodding. A king should always be sure of his decisions, he thinks. But he feels that he’s too close to the situation to make a proper decision. If he waits, Kayla could get worse or something could happen to her. If he acts too quickly, some bad could also happen to her.

Austin squeezes Will’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Kayla’s a strong girl.” Will nods. He had faith in her. He only wished he had just as much faith in himself.  
-  
Will is studying in the courtyard. He is absently watching Kayla catalog the early spring flowers, distantly aware that she is not displaying any symptoms of fever or distraught. Instead, she is happily drawing in her notebooks, the hems of her skirts already slightly dirty from the ground. She sets her notebook down to stretch out her fingers and arms, standing up to dust herself off.

Will smiles at her. He was proud of her dedicated work to the flowers and plants in the gardens. She always made the most beautiful bouquets for their table or to give as gifts. She had quite the eye for beauty.

Will blinks, rubbing his eyes. He’d been losing more sleep the past few nights. He’d snuck food into his room so that he could stay up later to work on his studies. He was ever more aware of the date of his coronation drawing closer and closer. It felt confining, almost restricting, and Will wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to go through with this - duty or no.

“Hey!” Kayla calls. “Where’s my notebook?” She searches around her as Will looks up. He spots the notebook sitting by some yellow flowers just behind Kayla. That’s odd, he thinks. He was sure she’d put it down right beside her.

“Just behind you, dear,” Will calls. Kayla smiles as she leans down to pick up her notebook.

“And my pen?” she asks. “It was in my notebook.” She looks around again, but she can’t seem to find it. Will gets up, helping her look. They look down the pathway, into the flowers. There was no sign of her pen. Will shrugs. It was small, and it was possible that the wind might have snatched it. Except, there wasn’t any wind. The air was heavy today, awaiting rain in the afternoon.

“Here, you can use mine,” Will says. He goes back to the bench he’d been sitting on. “Kayla, do you see my notebook?” Will searches around the bench, sure he’d placed it beside him. He pats his pockets, ensuring that he hadn’t just absently slipped it into his coat.

Kayla shakes her head. “It’s her,” she whispers. “She told me that she’d prove she was real.” Kayla’s eyes are wide, and her hands are pressed against her cheeks.

“Who, Kayla? Who’s real?”

Kayla shakes her head. “I don’t know. This girl,” she says. “A princess. A dead princess.”

Well, if Will hadn’t been creeped out before, he definitely was now. “Kayla, what do you mean?”

Kayla shrugs, sitting down on the bench. “She comes to me at night sometimes. We don’t do much. I just lay there, and she just wanders around my room.” She pauses, looking out towards the garden again. “I tried to talk to her the other night, though. I don’t quite believe in ghosts. Father says they’re real, though.”

Will nods. Their fathers loved the supernatural. While they didn’t worship it, they heavily devoted their free studies to myths on ghosts and legends of spirits. “Have you talked to Father or Dad about it?”

Kayla shakes her head. “I don’t want them to hurt the girl. She just seems lonely, so I let her stay with me at night.” Will sighs. He felt he was going to have to talk to Kayla about stranger danger. “You won’t make her leave, right?” Kayla asks. “She’s not mean or anything.”

“Do you think you could introduce us?” Will asks. Curiosity was overriding the shivers that were running down his back.

“Maybe. She only appears at night. After I go to bed. But sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and she’s there.”

Will nods. “Well, why don’t you ask her? And if she says it’s okay, I’d like to meet her.”

Kayla nods. “I can do that.” She pauses. “So you believe me? You don’t think I’m going crazy?”

Will smiles, hugging Kayla close. “No, dear. I believe you. It’s going to be okay.” Kayla nods.

“I still wish she wouldn’t have taken my pen. I need it to finish my drawing,” she huffs. There’s a gust of wind, and then Kayla smiles. ‘There it is!” She picks up her pen off the ground, hurrying back over to the flower she was observing earlier.

Will’s not sure what to think of all this. He didn’t like the idea of a ghost princess haunting his sister. Still, he was glad that she at least seemed friendly.  
-  
Will’s just heading to bed when he notices that he’s forgotten to close his door again. He can’t believe how exhausted he is, completely forgetting to close the doors to his quarters, even though he’d been both studying and changing. After all, closed doors represented privacy.

He switches off the light, settling underneath his covers. He smiles as he feels a soft breeze blow over his face. He’d always loved the night air. It had a calm, soothing presence to him. It wasn’t hurried or busy; it simply was. Will liked that, often wishing he could escape into the night air whenever he felt overwhelmed or stressed.

Then he startles. Because when had he opened the window? They’d been closed this afternoon on account of the afternoon rain. Will even remembers rushing to close them before the rain got into his room, soaking the furniture and his books. But now the windows were open. He can even make out the curtains billowing, the breeze pushing them into Will’s room.

He shrugs. He didn’t mind the windows being open, and he was too tired to get up and close them.

Then he sees something, something almost translucent and ethereal. It’s not his curtains, and Will’s sure it’s not a figment of his sleep-deprived mind. It looks like a human, a man. He’s wearing a fancy suit, something not too different from what Will has to wear on a daily basis. There are a few differences, but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what they are what with how the man seems to fade in and out of sight.

Will rubs at his eyes again. He wonders if this is somehow the same girl that’s been visiting Kayla. He watches the man wander around the room. He stops to look at Will’s things, occasionally picking up a book or fluttering the pages of a notebook. He seems content to just look through Will’s stuff, not bothering anything, always handling with care.

Then he turns to look at Will. “Who are you?” he asks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Will says. His voice comes out a bit more strained than he’d like it to, but he’s pretty proud of himself. In his pajamas, in bed, he feels rather vulnerable. He’s sure that if his ghost is malevolent, it won’t take much to snuff Will out.

The man’s mouth curves into what Will would call a smile. “Prince Nico,” he says, bowing. “At your service, your Highness.” Now Will thinks he’s smirking.

“Right,” Will says. “It seems you already know who I am.” The man seems to shrug, his shoulders disappearing for a moment before returning. “So, um, are you just visiting?”

“I have always been here,” Nico says. “I believe my sister visits your sister on occasion.” Will nods. “Your sister seems very lovely.” Will nods again.

“Do you have other siblings?” Nico nods.

“Yes. I have an older sister, but she is stubborn.” Nico smiles at that. “I am sure you will meet her eventually. She is not good at resisting handsome faces.”

This makes Will feel slightly uncomfortable. “So, what’s the reason for the appearance?” Will asks. “Or do you appear every night, and I’m only seeing you now?”

“Sometimes you are sleeping.” He pauses. “But it has taken me a while to muster up the courage to show my face. Shame is not easily forgotten. And I had to make sure you were trustworthy.”

“Am I?” Will asks.

Nico nods. “I think so.” He picks up another of Will’s books. “So much learning. There was not nearly as much of this when I was alive.” He sounds almost sad now, and Will kind of wants to hug him. “I am not sure if that is good or bad. Is this stuff good?”

Will shrugs. “Depends on if you like politics.”

“My father loved politics,” he says. “It is the reason we are all dead. Too much power. There needs to be a balance.” He looks at Will, moving closer. He’s at the foot of the bed now. “I can help you. Teach you things your books will never tell you. There is only so much the written page can capture.”

“Can you travel around like that?” Will asks.

Nico nods. “Death seems to not follow the same rules of the living. I have seen so much, and I will see more, I am sure. At least until my debt is paid. Then I shall return restful to my grave.”

Will swallows. “Help would be nice,” he says. “I feel like I’m only confusing myself every time I open another book. Was it always this complicated?”

Nico smiles. “It was not, but that was because my father was very narrow-minded. He only saw black and white. I am hoping that you can see in color.”

“Okay,” Will says. “I want to learn.” Nico nods.

“Get some sleep, my prince,” he whispers. “You’ll need it.” And then he’s gone.  
-  
Will wasn’t sure what to make of last night. He wasn’t sure if it was all a dream, a plea of his tired mind. Or if a ghost really had visited him in the night. What he knew for sure was that he was exhausted, and he was hungry. He checks the time, his heart beating faster as he realizes that he’d overslept. Family meals weren’t mandatory, but they were highly encouraged. It was too easy to get swept up in other matters and not spend time with family.

Will rushes towards the dining hall, only to find his brother and sister exiting. Austin gives Will a concerned look. Kayla just hugs him before skipping off to her lessons.

“Did you sleep okay?” Austin asks. Will shrugs. Austin nods. “You’d tell me if something was bothering you, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind right now,” Will says.

“Cheer up, Will. In a month, all of this studying will be over, and you’ll be in the field. It gets better.” Will hoped so. HIs fathers hadn’t ever complained about how difficult and tiring it was to run a kingdom, though they’d always ruled together.

His dad had asked for his father’s hand in marriage the night before his coronation, but they’d been together before that. As children, Will and his siblings were often told the stories of their courting. His fathers were affectionate and loving, and they wanted their children to partake in their happiness.

Will heads into the kitchen, hoping that Rachel would be able to spare him some food.

“Morning, Will,” she says. Will gives her a hug, eyeing the pastries that are lined up before him.

“May I?” he asks.

Rachel smiles at him. “You missed my delicious meal, and now you want to skip right to dessert?” Will shrugs, yawning. Rachel’s smile softens. “Help yourself, sweetie.” Will grabs a muffin and takes a bite. Perfect.

“Thanks,” he says around a mouthful of muffin.

“So, what’s got you missing breakfast? You’re usually early.” Will laughs. Mornings were his favorite time. He liked to go for a walk before breakfast, which always made him either early or just on time for meals. “You’re not up late studying, are you? I’ve seemed to be miscounting the bread lately.”

Will shrinks a little. “Guilty,” he says. Rachel fixes a motherly frown on him.

“Balance, Will. It’s what keeps this kingdom running. This kingdom would never run on just work. It needs some play, too.” Will shrugs.

“I know, but I’ve also got to know all of this stuff now. After the coronation, I’ll be too busy with journeys and meetings and looking for a partner. I won’t have time to study.”

Rachel sets her hands on her hips. “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Do you think either of your fathers knows everything in those books? There’s a reason we write stuff down. It’s so we don’t have to remember it all.” She gestures to her shelf of cookbooks and recipes. “I’ve been making this same muffin for the last forty years, but sometimes I still can’t remember if it’s one teaspoon of baking powder or one tablespoon. Very big difference.”

Will nods. “Rachel, do you know any stories of ghosts?” Rachel raises her eyebrows. “I’ve just been curious. My fathers used to tell us ghost stories all the time when we were kids. I don’t remember very many of them anymore.”

She smiles. “Why don’t you ask, then? I know Apollo has missed seeing you. He says you’re always cooped up with your books nowadays.” Will blushes. He hadn’t realized that even his dad confided in Rachel. “Go talk to him. I’m sure he’s never too busy to speak with his son.”

Will nods, grabbing a few more muffins on his way out. “Thank you, Rachel.” She smiles, shooing him out of her kitchen.

Will heads towards his dad’s quarters before remembering that his dad liked to take walks after breakfast. He heads towards his dad’s favorite garden, hoping to find him.

“Will, my boy! Good to see your face. I think I’d forgotten what color your eyes were.” His dad laughs, clapping him on the back. “What brings you out into the fresh air?”

“Just wanted to talk to you,” Will says. “I thought we should catch up some.” He thinks back to what Nico (dream or not) had said to him last night about books. While they helped him remember stuff like Rachel had said, there was so much that probably had never been written down.

“Anything in particular? You seem like you came for something specific.” Will feels a little guilty at that, that he couldn’t just come to talk to his dad, that he needed something.

“Well, yes. I was wondering if you remembered those ghost stories you used to tell us as kids.” Apollo smiles, nodding. “I wanted to hear them again.” Apollo looks surprised at this.

“You never liked them as a kid,” he says, laughing. “Zeph and I always had to stay with you until you fell asleep.” He smiles at Will. Will vaguely remembers those nights. He’d kept imagining ghosts hanging around his room, hearing things in the hallways, seeing things move when there wasn’t anything to move them. He thinks about Nico. It was possible that he wasn’t seeing things.

“Do you know any of ghost children?” Will asks.

Apollo stops for a minute to think. “Well, there’s that old legend of the family who used to live in this very castle,” he says. Will feels a shiver go down his spine. “We never told that one much. It always made you cry.” He starts walking again.

“Why?” Will asks.

“You never liked the ending. You always said it should be happier. That, and I think it scared you.” He smiles at Will. “Do you want to hear it?”

Will nods. He braces himself. As his dad tells the story, he starts to remember bits and pieces: the tyrant king, the servant uprising, the blood-stained marble, the screams of the children. His fathers were marvelous storytellers (both fortunately and unfortunately). They could draw their audiences in and ensnare them. He shivers again.

“Still scary?” Apollo asks. Will shrugs. “Why that particular one?”

Will’s silent for a moment before he tells his dad about Nico. Apollo only smiles. “Yes, I’ve been wondering when his children would come to visit.” Will frowns. “Their parents have been visiting Zeph and me for years. Very resourceful, though sad.”

“How come you never told us?”

Apollo shrugs. “The time was never right,” he says. “But now you are going to be a king, and I think it’s high time for you to meet the di Angelos.”  
-  
Will’s not sure what’s happening, but he doesn’t quite like it. They’re sitting in the dark, candles lit around them. His fathers are talking to each other. Austin’s reviewing some foreign affairs thing. Kayla’s asleep, had passed out in the middle of watercoloring her flowers of the day.

“Are we calling the spirits again?” Austin asks, looking up.

“Again?” Will asks. It kind of terrified him that his fathers had done this before. Was this how they’d ended up with the di Angelos haunting them to begin with?

“We’re not calling. They’re already here. We’re just waiting to see if they’ll show themselves,” Zephryus says. He smiles, brushing his fingers through Kayla’s hair. He gently draws her paints away from her, closing them with care. Then he pulls a blanket over her, kissing her cheek. “I’m going to tuck her in.”

“Let her sleep here,” Apollo says. “She’ll be upset if she misses anything because we’ve put her to sleep in her own bed.”

They tuck Kayla in, and Will has half a mind to crawl in next to her. He was exhausted, but he wanted to see Nico again. He wanted to know it was real.

He’s huddled up at the foot of his parent’s bed. There’s a blanket draped over his shoulders, the fireplace crackling. He yawns, eating some buttered bread just to try and keep himself awake. His dad turns to him, smiling.

“They’re on their way,” he says. Will frowns. “Zeph can feel their presence.” Will doesn’t ask. He’s not quite used to his father’s uncanny ability to read the wind, but he trusts it. His father had yet to be wrong.

And then there’s a middle-aged man and woman standing right in front of them. In the firelight, they almost glimmer. His fathers step forward, bowing slightly. They kiss the woman’s hand. She smiles at them, bowing her head.

“Children, meet King Hades and Queen Maria di Angelo.” Will scrambles to his feet to bow. He remembers that he’s in his pajamas and warm socks, but they don’t seem to care. Maria just smiles warmly at him.

“My son has told me many things about you, Prince William,” she says. “Many good things,” she adds at Will’s nervous shifting.

“Your fathers tell me that you’re to be the king in just a month,” Hades says. He hesitates slightly on the second word, and Will wonders just how long the di Angelos have been dead. Will nods.

“Yes, your Highness. At the beginning of May.”

His fathers step in them, making pleasantries. Hades asks about Austin’s journeys. They talk about the state of foreign affairs, about the trade. Will sits off to the side, unsure what he should be doing. He feels that he should be part of the conversation, but he’s content to just sit and listen.

“Hello,” comes a soft voice behind him. Will startles as Nico comes into sight. “Good evening, my prince.” Will hopes the firelight hides his blush, though he’s not sure if the night impairs a ghost’s vision.

“Hi,” Will breathes. “I’ve met your parents,” he says. Nico nods.

“They are all good friends now.” He gestures towards the fire. “And there is Hazel.” Will can just make out the outline of a small girl. She waves to him before laying down by the fire. And then Will thinks he’s going to be sick. While they all had wispy silhouettes, there was some form of color. It was a sepia color, like something that had been old and worn. But the blood on Hazel’s back was clear as day. Her clothes were torn across the back and stained a dark red.

Will takes a few moments to compose himself before looking over at his fathers. Now that he’s noticed it, he can see the bullet hole in Hades’s body, the faint discoloration of Maria’s skin. Will lifts his eyes to Nico’s form. He looks to be about Will’s age, extremely attractive. But it’s clear that Nico’s clothes are rumpled from more than just death. He’s got cuts across his face, a permanent bruise on his cheek. Will’s sure that if he saw Nico’s back, there would also be blood.  
He feels something cold touch his cheek. “It is okay, Will,” Nico says. “It hardly hurts anymore.”

Will nods, his throat tight. He wonders if this is why Nico’s other sister refuses to join them. “Why?” Will asks.

Nico shakes his head. “You have heard the story before, and it is not a pleasant conversation. All that matters now is that we are trying to repay our debt. We are going to make things better, okay?”

“Okay,” Will says because he can’t think of anything else to say. Nico’s eyes are dark pools of sorrow and something softer just underneath that. “I trust you.”

Nico smiles at that. There’s a round of laughter from the far corner of the room. The parents are toasting to something, and Will wonders if an important decision has just been made.

“Well, it is getting late,” Nico says. He quirks his head towards the clock which has rung midnight about three hours ago. “I will see you later, my prince. Take care.” He leans forward, his breath ghosting over Will’s face. He thinks Nico’s just kissed his cheek, but he’s not sure.  
-  
“You can appear in the daytime?” Will asks. He’d been working on his studies in one of the courtyards when Nico had appeared beside him.

“It takes more work, but you are worth it.” Will blushes, hiding it behind a cough. “And I promised. Shall we walk?”

So now they’re walking through the gardens. Will finds himself rambling about the different plants, the landscaping choice, the weather. He doubts that he’s ever talked about the weather so much. He knows for a fact that he’s never had to use the word ‘temperate’ to describe it. Thinking now, he’d probably say something like humid or stuffy.

Nico listens, asking questions and pointing out things. “I remember this fountain,” Nico says. “It is one of my favorite places on these grounds. I would come here to sketch or read almost every day. The servants even set up an awning for me so that I could sit here in the rain.” He doesn’t sound wistful like Will thought he would be. Instead, he remembers them as if he was describing the other day.

“Can you still sketch and read?” Will asks.

Nico shrugs. “In a way. It is harder to sketch as I cannot exactly control a pen the same way anymore. I can read. I used to read while you were sleeping. I would sit on your couch and read your novels. You have good taste.”  
Will smiles. “Thanks.”

They discuss what life was like when Nico was still alive. He describes the landscape, the townspeople, the state of foreign affairs. He sounds bitter, like it’s painful to recall the events of his childhood, like it’s tough to comprehend that it all ended in murder.

“Politics is the delicate balance between humanity and power,” Nico says. “You have to follow your heart. If I have learned one thing, love cannot do harm. It is everything that can get in the way of love. Things like power or distrust or ignorance.”

Will nods. “Is that what happened?”

Nico gives him a sad smile. “I had not realized until they stormed the castle that spring night. I had always looked up to my father. I knew of the tension, but I believed wrongly that he was doing something to relieve it. I had no idea he was the cause of it, and now it is my job to make sure that it does not happen to anyone else.”

“I’ll try my hardest,” Will says. He lets out a sigh. “I just feel like I’ll mess up, and there won’t be a way to fix it.”

Nico places his hands on Will’s shoulders. Will doesn’t even shiver or hesitate to look right into Nico’s eyes. Nico had been visiting him in the evenings, later and later as the days grew longer. He and Nico would stay up late, just talking. Or sometimes Will would read out loud while Nico listened. Sometimes Nico would sing Italian lullabies when Will couldn’t sleep, his head too full of foreign policy and hypothetical scenarios.

“Everyone will make mistakes,” Nico says. “It is what happens after the mistake that makes the man. You cannot control everything. The flowers cannot choose where they bloom, but they are pretty nonetheless. They do their best, and I know you will, too. You are already working so hard.”

Will nods. “How long did it take you to learn that?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “You learn from experience, Will. You can only learn so much from perfection. After all, broken clocks are more accurate than functioning ones. At least, they are certain to be right twice a day.” He cups Will’s face. “I could have lived my life and followed my father’s footsteps. Instead, I am dead. Nothing teaches one better than life taking a different track.”

“But how will I know if I’m doing something wrong?” He frowns. Sometimes the wrong answer looked very much like the right one, and, very often, there wasn’t a right answer. Or even a wrong one.

“You may not,” Nico says softly. “But you have so many people around you that will help you.” Will nods.

“Will you stay around?” Will asks. “I know that sounds super selfish, but it’s nice having someone to talk to.”

Nico laughs. “Because you do not have siblings and fathers.” Will shrugs. He loves seeing that smile on Nico’s face. It spreads across his features, making him seem so much more alive. “I will stay around for as long as I can, my prince,” Nico says.

Will smiles. Nico’s still cupping his face, his thumb softly stroking Will’s cheek. His touch is cold, but it’s no longer shocking or unpleasant. If Will closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that Nico was alive and holding him. That he could kiss him.

When he opens his eyes, Nico’s fading. He yawns. “Ghosts can still get tired,” Nico had once told Will. Then Nico’s gone, only the trace of his cold fingerprints left behind.  
-  
It’s two nights before Will’s coronation, and Will isn’t sure if his life is getting easier or not. The di Angelos have become a regular fixture in their household. Kayla has tea with Hazel every other afternoon. She walks Hazel through the gardens, telling her about each plant. Sometimes Hades pops in to help Will with his studies. He’s the whisper of advice in Will’s ear on excursions into town. Maria joins them for tea on nice days, recounting the glorious balls, subtly hinting that Nico was quite the dancer.

On the days that Bianca decided to join them, she plays the piano. Her fingers, still delicate and skilled after all the years, dance across the keys. She keeps her hair down her back to hide most of the blood and beating of her death. She doesn’t talk much, instead choosing to sit quietly while the rest of her family goes about their days.

“I’ve heard that you’ve made a friend,” Rachel says when Will sneaks into the kitchen that night. Will blushes.

“Yeah. Has he come by?” Rachel shakes her head.

“He knows I’m busy and doesn’t come by to distract me.” She swats at Will as he dips his finger into the muffin batter. “The first batch is over there,” she says, pointing to a cooling rack.

Will smiles. “Thanks, Rachel.”

She smiles, kissing his cheek. “Does your young man eat muffins?” Will blushes again, shrugging. He wasn’t quite sure if Nico ate. Even though Kayla and Hazel had tea, he felt it awkward to ask. “He’s certainly mellowed you out,” Rachel adds.

Will nods. “His whole family has helped so much. I feel like I’m almost ready. I just hope I don’t faint during the ceremony.”

Rachel laughs. “They do call it falling in love for a reason.” Will’s sure his cheeks are crimson.

“Shh. He might hear you,” Will says. Rachel tsks.

“Might do you both some good,” she says. “Now hurry on to bed. You still look exhausted. I won’t have you eating my muffins at midnight just so you can skip breakfast.”

Will hugs her before hurrying to his room. He finishes off his muffin, quickly changing into his pajamas. When he comes out of the bathroom, Nico’s sitting on his bed. He’s got one of Will’s favorite novels in his hands, gently turning the pages as he reads. In this light, his wounds look more like strange shadows across his body. In this light, Nico looks softer, younger.

“Do you ever miss being alive?”

Nico shrugs. “I was not much of a person to miss. Now, I think I am better.” He perks up, setting the book down. Nico stands up, walking over to Will. “What about you? What would you miss the most?”

Will shrugs. “Muffins,” he says.  
Nico laughs. “I do not miss eating as much as I thought I would. There are perks to being dead.”

If Will leaned closer, their noses would touch. He can feel what he imagines is Nico’s breath puffing against his lips. Will blinks. If he just leaned forward-

“Do you want to dance?” Nico whispers. He sets Will’s hands on his shoulders, smiling as his rest on Will’s waist. “I’ll lead.”

They start slowly, barely moving, just swaying. Then Nico’s moving them across the floor, his steps so solid and sure. Will follows, convinced that he can hear music. It’s faded, barely there over Nico’s laughter, but he can hear it. The candlelight catches Nico’s eyes, making them shine. Will doesn’t think Nico’s ever looked so beautiful.

Nico spins away, dipping, before pulling Will close again. Will’s hands intertwine behind Nico’s neck, pulling him closer still. They’re breaths away, and yet they're breathless. Nico lets out another laugh, and then the song is winding down. They’re hip against hip, chest to chest, feet just shuffling in place. Will rests his head on Nico’s shoulder, tracing patterns across his shoulder.

“This,” Nico whispers. “This is what I miss most.”

Will pulls back just enough that he can look into Nico’s eyes. “Then stay.”

Will sucks in a breath as Nico closes the gap between them. He winds his fingers through Will’s hair, his lips almost warm against Will’s. Will has to pull away first, catching his breath. It takes him a few tries before he’s smiling.

“Is that a yes?”

Nico just kisses him again.  
-  
It’s the day of Will’s coronation.

The morning had gone well. He’d made it through the coronation without fainting. He’d made it through his speech. He’d even got all of the guests’ names right, hardly fumbling. It helped that he could feel Nico’s hand in his, right beside him, even if everyone else never knew.

And now it’s time for dancing. Will doesn’t know how many ladies he’s danced with. He doesn’t even know how many gentlemen he’s danced with. After the tenth dance, everyone started blurring together. He can see his fathers dancing, laughing. His sister has fallen asleep near the windows. He can see Hazel watching over her.

And standing off to the side is Nico.

“Do I call you my king now?” he asks. Will blushes. Nico presses a kiss to Will’s cheek. “May I have this dance, my king?” Will blushes deeper, but he lets Nico guide him through the next song.

“Thank you,” Will says. His lips trace subtle patterns across Nico’s neck.

“Will,” Nico breathes. Will pulls back. “You are going to be a great king.”

Will feels something tighten in his chest. “Stay,” he whispers. It’s the most selfish thing he’s ever asked, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to sleep knowing that Nico’s gone. “Please.”

Nico gives a small laugh, tracing Will’s face with his finger. “I have paid my debt,” he says. “I am free. I can rest peacefully now.” He glances over at his family, and it hits Will. Even in death, he’s never been apart from his family. “I am not alive, Will. I am not like you.”

Will thinks he’s going to cry. Right now, in the middle of his coronation ball. “You don’t need blood to be alive, Nico.” He’s grasping Nico’s arms, fully aware that Nico can slip out of his grasp whenever he chooses.

Nico gives him a watery smile. “It is funny. Life or death. I am always going to miss one or the other.” He pauses. “But this death. It is not something I regret anymore.” He wipes at Will’s face, the tears going through his fingers.

Nico leans forward to kiss Will’s lips, so softly. “You are a great king, Will. My prince.” Nico smiles, his fingers leaving Will’s jaw. Will kisses Nico once more. He breathes in. He breathes out. He feels the crown sitting atop his head.

Nico shared his story, and now it is time for Will to write his.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure how I wanted to end this, so now you can interpret it yourself :)
> 
> comments are appreciated :)
> 
> I am accepting prompts over at my series 'even more solangelo' :)


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